They Didn't Kill Each Other
by Paperclip-Assassin
Summary: "You must be ready to kill each other." But they didn't. And maybe -just maybe- being stuck with him isn't as bad as it used to be. Mild spoilers for Extreme Prejudice.


**Guys, I can't even find the words to tell you how much I enjoyed Extreme Prejudice. It was so much better than I expected and I'm just so, so, so glad McGee's okay. After him not being in the preview, I thought he was seriously injured. **  
**And the Tiva scenes? Made my day. :) I went all fangirlish and I swear to you, I didn't know I could squeal at such high volumes.**

**But there was something that really, truly irritated me. Did you notice the ironing equpiment in the background during the scene with Gibbs and Fornell in Gibbs' dining room? Well _I_ did and I cannot possibly picture Leroy Jethro Gibbs do some ironing without cracking up laughing. Can you? xD I couldn't even listen to their conversation because I was laughing so hard.**

**Anyway, this following one-shot is set on the day of the explosion and deals with some of the things they talked about while trapped in the elevator. It gets a little bit idealistic at the end, but hey, cut me some slack, will ya? One should be allowed to dream ;)**

_**Disclaimer: I don't even own one single season on DVD.**_

* * *

The thought first hits her when she is at home, undressing from her sweaty and dust-covered clothing, and heading for the shower.

They are alive. Gibbs, Abby, McGee, Palmer, Ducky… Tony. They are all stressed out, scared and more than a little bit shaken up, but they are all alive nonetheless. She lets ice-cold water cool her down a little bit and clear her head before she gradually turns up the temperature to relax her tense muscles. It feels like hours to her until she decides that she's clean and relaxed enough to step out of the shower again. The main reason she's putting it off for many minutes is, that once she steps out that shower she needs to get dressed, drive back to the Navy Yard and face the whole situation all over again. But in the end it does not matter, because they're _alive_.

.

Her damp hair pulled back into a more than messy bun, she heads for the door and almost jumps when she finds her partner standing in the hallway outside her apartment. He changed clothes too and she involuntarily takes in his scent; a mix of shower gel, expensive cologne and something uniquely Tony DiNozzo. It brings a smile to her lips almost instantly.

"Thought I could give you a ride back," he explains his presence after they just stared at each other for a minute too long. She nods, grateful for the gesture and happy that she will not have to face all the destruction at the office alone.

He drives slowly and every once in a while she catches him glancing at her trough his sunglasses. She doesn't mind it, though, because she wouldn't catch him if she wasn't that focused on her partner. They do not talk, feeling comfortable with the silence between them, but the nearer they come to the Navy Yard, the more her heart speeds up. When they stop at a red light he reaches over and gives her hand a gentle squeeze. She doesn't pull away and feels an odd wave of excitement rush over her when he doesn't let go even after the light turned green and they're continuing their drive.

The little moment of intimacy in the car is forgotten the moment they re-enter the bullpen to find everything still covered in dust and debris. Somehow she expected for everything to go back to normal within the two hours she was gone and she feels a pang of disappointment she knows is irrational. He seems to feel her tense next to him, because he raises an encouraging hand to the small of her back, gently urging her to keep walking. At the moment she doesn't know what she would do without him.

.

Gibbs sends them home when it gets dark, telling them to get some rest as if it was just an average day at the office, but she sees in his eyes that he is just as physically and emotionally exhausted as everyone else.

"I'll drop you off at your place?"

The voice from behind startles her, even though it's low and calm. She forgot that she didn't come with her own car.

"Yes, please," is all she says before they fall into their comfortable silence again. She's glad that he's not as talkative as he was in the elevator, although a small part of her knows that his constant rambling was the one thing keeping her sane in that metal box. Still, talking would mean addressing things and she wasn't ready to address their eye-contacts screaming with nothing but honesty and their hand-holding yet.

.

Back at her apartment she hesitates before exiting the car, not really wanting to sit in her empty living room with nothing but images of the day to haunt her. The thing is, she doesn't feel like having company either, so in the end she just swallows down the invitation that's been on the tip of her tongue for the better part of five minutes and gets out of the car with a quiet '_thanks'_.

To escape the silence of an empty apartment she turns on the TV, but no matter which channel she watches, the news keep showing her the day's events over and over and over again. It only takes three minutes until she gives up and decides to just call it a day. She takes her time brushing her teeth and dressing in a pair of wide grey sweatpants and a tank top. When she looks into the mirror she sees not herself, but someone hollow and tired with hideous hair.

"Crap," she mutters to herself, jumping at her own voice, before she grabs her hairbrush and tries to untangle her curls, remembering why she doesn't like to air-dry her hair. It takes almost fifteen minutes until she looks presentable again and only now does she realize why she put that much effort in taming her curls. She isn't actually going to sleep.

.

It takes him a while to pick up and his groggy voice explains why. "Ziva?"

"Did I wake you?" She immediately feels bad for calling him. He deserves some rest after staying at her side to comfort her the whole day.

"Kinda," he's interrupted by a yawn, "Is everything alright?"

For a moment she's tempted to just say '_yes'_ and hang up again, but she knows that it would be unfair to chicken-out now.  
"Actually, no," she struggles to find the right words, biting her lip. "I…"

"I'll be right over," he says, sounding much more awake. In the background she hears the sound of a key being turned in the lock before the line goes dead.

It takes him much less than usual until she hears the soft knock on her door and rushes across the room to open it. He looks tired and she realizes he's not even wearing a jacket, but he still smiles at her when she gazes up at him somewhat apologetically. And it's one of those private smiles she likes more than she's ready to admit at the moment.

"Couldn't sleep, huh?" he asks while he settles onto her couch in his usual spot, feet resting on her coffee table. The sight comforts her immensely.

She shakes her head, sitting down next to him. "No."

"Yeah, me either," he lies and she knows he does it so she doesn't feel bad about waking him. He knows her so well. She doesn't argue when he reaches over and, again, takes her hand in his as if it is the most normal thing in the world. It's only such a small action, but for them it's a huge jump toward the edge and she knows that they're playing with flames – fire? – But she also knows that it's the first time she doesn't feel like running away.

They just sit there with joined hands, exchanging quick glances and even a shy smile every once in a while until he finally decides to break the silence. "My dad _did_ call, you know."

"That does not surprise me."

His eyebrows shoot up and he turns to face her completely, still not letting go of her hand. "No?"

She chuckles at his obvious confusion. "He cares for you, Tony, even if you find that hard to believe."

"Well, this whole situation where he's not just calling me when he needs money is still new for me. It feels good to know that someone out there cares, though," he finally admits and she feels honored that he's sharing this kind of information with her.

"He's not the only one who cares for you." The words are out before she can stop them and for a moment she is aware of the fact that she can back out and tell him that she meant the team, but she realizes that she doesn't want to. She wants _him_ to be aware of the fact that _she_ cares for him.

His eyes grow even softer than they already were and he lets go of her hand only to reach over and stroke a tentative finger across her cheek, much like he did in the elevator.

"I know."

She smiles. "Good."

When he smiles back at her she finds her eyes darting from his eyes to his lips and quickly looks away, suppressing the surprising urge to kiss him. His hand leaves her face and he clears his throat, before keeping the conversation at a lighter tone.  
"Did you notice we didn't kill each other?"

She laughs at that, "Yes. It is quite obvious, is it not?"

"Yeah," he shrugs, hesitating for a moment, "Just, y'know, the last couple of times we were stuck together, we did end up almost murdering one another."

Her smile fades as she thinks back to what seems like two lifetimes ago with the two of them in a shipping container. They've really come a long way since then and she's surprised when she realizes that there is no one she would rather be stuck with than him.

"Ziva?" He waves a hand in front of her face to get her attention back, "You zoned out for a minute. What're you thinking about?"

"Us," she answers truthfully, obviously catching him off-guard with that honest statement.

"'Us', referring to 'you' and 'me'?" He blinks a couple of times and she gives a shy nod with her head, causing the biggest, sincerest smile she's ever seen him wear spread across his face. She finds herself unable not to smile herself.

She takes a deep breath and searches his eyes for a moment before her final admission, "I _do_ consider you to be 'in my life', Tony,"

"Doesn't Daddy David have a problem with that?" he teases in typical DiNozzo-avoiding-emotional-topics fashion, reminding her of the talk with her father.

"It is not for him to decide," she says softly, but just as she opens her mouth to take her words back, afraid she scared him off with too many confessions at once, he reaches out and pulls her into a hug.

"So… what exactly does that mean? What is this?" he asks, voice suddenly raw with emotion as he motions between them. She tightens her arms around him for a moment before pulling back to look him in the eyes.

"I do not quite know what '_this'_ is exactly. But I am willing to… give it a go, yes?"

Instead of answering he leans in and presses his lips to hers once, leaving her heart speeding and her whole body tingling with a feeling she's not felt for a long time. She pulls herself closer to him and kisses him again and the kiss is so much different from the one they shared under cover, because this time it means something.

"Did it really take a madman to freaking blow up half of D.C. for us to happen?" he asks breathlessly, pulling her against his chest and placing a soft kiss on her temple.

She smiles sadly, because that madman still needs to be caught, but her smile turns more genuine when she looks up into his eyes. "That and several hours stuck in confined space without the need to tear each other's head off."

"Sounds about right," he says with a chuckle and she is so, so glad that they finally stopped pretending once and for all.

* * *

**Thoughts? :)**


End file.
